


Things we still need to learn

by prettythoughts_deadlymind



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettythoughts_deadlymind/pseuds/prettythoughts_deadlymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its hard losing your best friend only to find them years later and have them not be the same person they use to be. Steve is just beginning to learn that if he wants his best friend back...hes going to have to come to terms with that fact that Bucky simply isnt Bucky anymore but someone new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The night has a way of being so very heavy and resting upon a person like set of weights and this is just how it felt for the figure in the shadows. Pale blue eyes that were nearly silver gleamed in the low light of the settling darkness, the gleam of them nearly matched that of the bionic arm that adorned the left side of his body where an arm of flesh had once resided before the fall. A fall he wasn’t entirely sure was real. So little seemed to be real to the man in the shadows and thats just how the people who controlled him wanted him. Shifting his weight he adjusted his grip upon the gun he held and emerged from the darkest of the dark and into the vast openness of Central park. The only sound was that of snow crunching under his heavy boots as his breath bloomed into little clouds of white as it escaped from his mouth. 

With an almost resigned sense about him, the Winter Soldier lowered himself to the ground, not caring that the snow was cold and chilling through the heavy material of his pants. The Winter Soldier remained quiet and sit as he sat upon the snow covered ground, his pale face tipped up towards the heavens as white flakes drifted closer. The darkness of night pressed close and left him with a slightly breathless feeling but it was better than the way he normally felt--confused and so horribly empty. It was a vast and startling feeling and one that he wasn't entirely sure how to handle. Without HYDRA to contain his mind and his memories he had found himself struggling more and more. He knew not who he was or who he was meant to be. He was like a compass without a magnetic north to give it direction--all he had was this flood of memories about a blonde haired man. But these memories did little to help him find out who he personally was.

As the snow collected in James’s hair and on his lashes he put his face in his flesh hand, trying to put some order to the chaos of his head of his mind and all that was there and all that was missing. It was a difficult thing like trying to imagine something that you had only heard of once but had never really experienced for yourself. And all it seemed to be doing as provide the ex-soviet assassin with a headache. A low, annoyed growl escaped him before he reclined back into the slow, dark hair spilling into a halo around his head. “Who am I?” He demanded of the darkness that was spilled across the sky above him, a star occasionally winking at him through the cotton candy colds stained blue with night. The only response he was given was that nearly inaudible sound of snow falling.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In near distance the American hero stood, bundled up against the chill of the late night, the tip of his nose made red. Eyes the color of the morning sky watched the lone dark figure with a heavy sense of longing in his heart. There was nothing that Steve Rogers wanted more then to run to where his best friend stood and gather him in his arms. To whisper in his ear that he loved him and simply had never been given the chance to tell him--that he had never told him because it had never been allowed when they both where young and alive. And now he feared he never would get the chance to tell him. 

Captain America had been following the Winter Soldier for the past week but had yet to approach him despite how he so desperately wanted to, but fear held him back. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it if James continued to not remember who he was. Steve had come to terms with the fact that Bucky was gone, that Hydra had destroyed him and that Steve was never going to get that man back--but he couldn't give up on James. Even if he had to relearn everything about this man and let someone new take the place of his best friend in his heart he would do it--if only to have James back in his life once more not as an enemy but as a friend and a companion. He needed to be brave but he was struggling if only because love was such a scary thing and he had so little idea about how the Winter Soldier was going to react now that he was free.  
Perhaps thats why he was so surprised when he suddenly found himself moving forward towards where the Winter Soldier lay upon the snow covered ground, looking so horribly lost and alone. It was a sight that made the American Hero’s heart ache with a pain he had never hoped to feel and once more he had to resist the urge to sit down and gather him into his arms and hold him until there was no doubt in his mind that the Winter Soldier knew who he was.  
“J-James?” His voice was startlingly loud in the silence of the night and the Winter Soldier’s response was instantaneous. James rolled sharply onto his feet, crouching low to the ground, gun forgotten in the snow beside where he had laid, knives in hand, dark and threatening. Blue eyes were wild as they peered up at the blonde from his pale face, snow still caught in the dark, wavy mess of his hair.  
For a while nothing was said and there was only the sound of the soldier’s breathing as his body slowly settled into a more defensive mindset. And then it registered who was in front of him and he pulled himself sharply into a standing position, like a puppet whose strings were quite suddenly pulled. “You!” Came the low, husky tenor voice of the Winter Soldier, surprise and something akin to offense coloring his tone. This was the man from the bridge, the one who filled his mind until it felt like he had nothing else. “Who are you?” He continued in a snarl, moving closer and roughly grasping the front of the blondes jacket in both hands , threatening to lift him from the ground.  
Steve’s blue eyes widened with alarm and his hands came to fold over the dark haired males and he scrambled to answer, not sure what to make of his reaction. “B-Bucky stop! Please! Its me! Steve--y-your best friend!"

"Why?" The Winter soldier snarled, "Why are you in my head? Why are you the only thing I can remember?"


	2. Raching out

For the longest time Steve couldn't say anything, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest, the sound of it filling his ears . The blue of his eyes were locked upon the expression which was painted upon the Winter Soldiers face...anger, confusion, desperation...and something else all visible there on the pale planes of his face. It made the American hero’s heart ache and his hands tingle with the urge to reach out and comfort him. So he struggled instead with finding the words that would hopefully put this man at ease.

“I...I don't know.....but you know me, Buck.” Steve offered, holding his hands out, palms towards the snowing heavens to show he intended him no harm. Lord, how he intended this man no harm. He loved him more then anything and the thought of having to hurt him nearly caused Steve true and genuine physical pain but he would do it if he absolutely had to. 

As those words left his mouth, he could see the affect they had on the man before him, his hands slowly lowering and tightening around the knives he held. The Winter Soldier took a single step towards Steve and the blonde could feel those silvery-blue eyes burn his face as they studied him, but Steve remained where he was. The dark head of the Winter Soldier tilted to one side and Steve could practically see the memories as James’ mind shifted through them. 

After several heart beats, the dark haired male spoke, his words being carried to Steve by the light breeze which caused the snow to veer off course as it spiraled down to earth. “Yes....” there was a pause as the other struggled to find the words he so desperately needed. “But why can I only remember you? I know nothing of myself and yet it would appear that I know everything one might hope to know about you.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

James mind was thrown into complete chaos. Nothing made sense save for the fact that this man....before him. He belonged to him. Every cell in his body said that he belonged to the man standing before him. Steve. He had never told Steve this. But it was true. And it only made the mess that was his head --that was his life in this moment-- all the more confusing. 

“James....please...it doesn't have to be like this! I can help you if you’ll let me...”

He looked up at those words, dark hair tumbling into his eyes as he moved to gaze upon the blonde across from him, snow gathered in the pale, golden sun color of his hair. “I don't think you can...I don't think you should want to!” James protested, stepping back and away from the man before him, his flesh hand coming up to press its palm against his face, hiding one of his eyes from the world as dark lashes fell to hide the other. 

The Winter Solider could hear the shifting of feet in the snow and knew that the other was making to approach him but he couldn't bother to stop him, he had already allowed his knives to fall from his hands, now only uncertain black shapes in the snow littered ground. “James...Buck...please. Just...just come home. Please.” 

The Winter soldier flinched when he felt a warm hand touch his arm and his hand fell away from his face and his eyes opened just in time for him to see that angelically beautiful face before his own. It made that part of him that knew without a doubt to whom he belonged want to lean forward and claim his lips. To claim this man in return so that perhaps he would have a reason for so desperately wanting to go with him. To let his man help him figure just what it was to be alive and well instead of being a weapon waiting for orders and commands. 

“I have no home. Not anymore. I haven’t for a long time.” He sighed and looked down, forcing his hands through his hair before letting them fall limp to his side, flesh and metal. . 

Pales hands reached out for his own, shaking slightly and uncertain, the tips of the fingers made red with cold but James merely watched until they closed around his own, warm and firm. Slowly he looked up to meet the blue of those eyes which stared so earnestly into his own. It made his heart ache and his head pulse with remembrance. “Well you do now....so come on...lets go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys. Sorry its so short....I've been struggling to find inspiration but Im working on it! They'll get longer with time I promise!


	3. Return Home

When they finally arrived home, James had reached a stage where he acted less like the Winter Soldier and far more like a hurt, bewildered wild animal which for some odd reason or another had come to trust this gentle man who lead him carefully through the quiet, snowing city. His silver-blue eyes were nearly luminous in the grey darkness that the glittering white snow created, reflecting what little light there was and throwing the city into a sense of perpectual dawn only with out the imagination capturing colored that came with the barely rising sun. 

His movements were sharp and yet hesitant as he waited with baited breath each and every second for the part of him which was the Winter Soldier to snap back into place. Luckily, it had yet to happen. So when he stood before the small, wooden door with a gleaming number so carefully nailed upon it, he was hit with a sudden and intense bout of homesickness, his chaotic mind knowing just enough order to present James with the memory of a time where he had stood bone tired before his apartment door, trying to gather what little he could of a good mood so that he might have a smile ready upon his face when he opened the door to see Steve Rogers, still a small and delicate thing, waiting for him on the couch...most likely with a sketch book in hand and an excited look gracing that heartbreakingly lovely face of his, ready to show James his latest master piece. 

Something must have shown on the dark haired males face, for soon Steve was hesitating himself with his hand upon the door knob, blue eyes steadily resting upon James face while a worried frown tugged firmly upon his lips. “Hey....Its ok....” Soft words of comfort escaped the blondes mouth and it made something in Winter ache, knowing that despite all the harm he had saught to do to this man, he still believed in him and still desired to show him kindness. After so long of nothing but abuse from his handlers during this time with HYDRA, it was almost unsettling and yet it also somehow put his worried and mess ridden mind at ease. 

So trying to return the favor, James tried to force his lips to remember what it was so smile to no avail, but the words that escaped his lips were light enough to almost make him sound like the man Steve had known him to be for most of his life. “I guess I shouldnt be so surprised...but I guess part of me was thinking when you said home it would be our crappy little place we had back in Brooklyn.” He laughed, but it was at himself and he desperately hoped Steve couldn't tell.

Steve simply smiled and nodded, but there was something a little sad about the action. So turning away from him, he opened the door and stepped inside, if only so there would be enough room for the Winter Soldier to go in past him, the tiny hallway not big enough for both of the broad shouldered men to stand side by side. And so James did, gliding into the room with that fluid, predatory grace he had learned over the duration of the time spend not as James or Bucky but as the Winter Soldier. Pale eyes were greedy as they peered out from his dirty face, hair hanging in limp, grease strands about it. James wanted to look at everything at once, to try and better understand who this man was and why he already meant so much to him, why he already owned James so very completely. 

Steve must have clearly seen the desperation about James face, and seen it for what it was for he laughed, a sound which poured into James’ very soul and warmed him, forcing back some of the cold, icy chill of the Winter which had taken root there. “Come on....you’ll have plenty of time to look later....why don’t I show you were the bathroom is....grab you a towel and a razor and some of my clothes and you can look when you’re clean and comfortable.”

It was strange having Steve offter to take care of him. He knew enough from his jumbled and battered memories to know that this was not how it normally was. Normally it was he who was taking care of Steve...but for now the idea of a hot shower was too tempting for him to point out this face. “Da....that would be great....”   
________________________________________________________________________________________

 

There was something heart breakingly perfect for Steve Rogers about seeing his best friend in his apartment, to see that look upon Bucky’s face as if he was a small child who had just walked into a toy store and didn't know where to look. It was also painful because it reminded him so strongly of the fact that he no longer knew this man in his living room. They had been apart for so long, and lived such different lives during that time that they had moved away from each other and Steve was fearing that he might not be able to bridge that gap. Although, in the end that really didn't matter. He would learn Bucky all over again if he had too....but for now he needed to see James look less like a war time refugee and more like a person and in order for that to happen he was going to have to get him to shower and eat something. 

He was surprised when James so readily agreed, and couldn't keep the smile from blooming upon his lips, sure that the up curve of his mouth must be blinding to look at. So without thinking, Steve held out a hand, his pale palm firm and expecant as he waited until he felt warm flesh wrap around it. Only then did he lead James about his apartment...first to the bedroom to grab him some of Steve’s clothes to wear after...and then to the bathroom, chatting merrily about how the tap worked and where the towels were before pulling out a box of razors he had been given but never used. Apparently the super soldier serum had ended his need for a good shave. 

It was unexpectedly hard to leave the bathroom after that point--to leave James in general. So for several long, silent moments he stood just outside the bathroom door, lost to the outside world. He was found only when the sound of clothing hitting the floor jolted him out of his daze, making a blush bloom across his cheek bones. Hurrying away from the bathroom door before he felt too much like a pervert, his mind already filling with sin painted images of pale, exposed skin and how warm it might feel under Steve’s curious hands. 

To distract himself, he went to the kitchen, busting about it like a mother hen about her coop, picking up various things and setting them down before diving into the adventure of cooking. Who knew how long it had been since James had eaten and eaten well. Steve wanted to make sure that this first day--well night really he supposed-- was good. He wanted James to like being with him. And dear lord, how silly Steve Rogers felt as he sat in his kitchen whipping up food praying that James Barnes was going to like him--how long had it been since he had last fretted over something like that? It was enough to bring a smile to his lips and he gently shook his head, blonde hair falling into his eyes before he pushed it back with a slender wrist.. 

It was with that smile upon his lips that he put the food in the oven, humming softly under his breath.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________--

The warm shower did mircles for James. For a long time he had stood there, head hung low as he watched the water run off him, not stirring until the water finally ran clear and the knotts in his muscles relaxed. Only then did he reach for the soap, scrubbing his skin with the white wash cloth until it was dark with the grime his skin had collected and his skin hurt from just how rough he had been with it. He was just as rough with his hair, sliding open the shower door so he could lean out of the hot water into the cold air of the bathroom so his metal hand could close around a brush, the metal surface clouding over from the contrast of the hot water upon it and the cold of the surrounding air. 

When James Barnes finally turned the water off, it was almost as if a new man stood there, dripping wet and warm upon the rug which rested loyally just outside the shower door, its color darkening as water dripped off James’ pale body and onto it. Clearing off a spot of the mirror with a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist, he carefully shaved his face until it was smooth once more, and only then did he towel off his hair and slip his body into the warmth that was the borrowed clothes. 

He would have been distracted by the way he now smelled overwhelmingly of Steve for longer if it hadnt been for the way a new smell permieated the air. So with a new sense of curiosity, he followed his nose, pausing from time to time to look at the things around him for each little thing he looked at helped click a piece of who he was back into place and eased some of the overwhelming chaos in his head. 

When he finally reached the kitchen, a low chuckle escaped him, making the blonde haired American hero give a visible start before whirling around to face James. “Bucky! God! You scared me...I didn't hear you get out of the shower.... I'm making some food for you, it’ll be done in about 15 minutes.” Came Steve’s breathless explanation and for a second James thought he saw something dark and intriguing in those ocean blue eyes of his. 

So shifting his weight from foot to foot, he spoke...but the words that came out of his mouth were not what he had intended to say at all. “Its not safe for me to be here.” 

Blue eyes flashed with hurt and Steve made to approach him, making James sharply step back. “Buck...I promise nothing is going to hurt you while you’re---”

“No! You misunderstood me, Rogers....I mean its not safe for you. I may seem fine now...I may seem like your Bucky. But I'm not. That man is gone. Now...now I don't even know who I am, and I could snap back into being the Winter Soldier at any second...and kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally managed to write more then two pages which feels good. I think this story is finally starting to obtain some gravity in my head. Thanks for your support so far guys!


End file.
